


Home is Where You Feel Safe

by bl1the



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Drabble, F/M, Nightmares, Old work, Panic Attacks, edwin - Freeform, fic thing, may or may not add to this eventually, reuploading from ff, winry is Ed's rock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-06
Updated: 2019-05-06
Packaged: 2020-02-27 08:43:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18735580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bl1the/pseuds/bl1the
Summary: Edward talks big but truthfully, he's afraid. He's unsure of so many things, so much is being discovered and unearthed that he couldn't have possibly imagined could even be real, and it's starting to take it's toll.





	Home is Where You Feel Safe

**Author's Note:**

> Hello hello! I recently uncovered my old ff.net account and found some GEMS that I'm going to be fixing up/ uploading over the next few weeks. Depending on the response this gets I may add to it, who knows! But for now, enjoy this little drabble thing I wrote over four years ago 😂  
> Originally this piece was four chapters long, but when I retyped it all out they looked a bit...too short. So I've compiled them all into one big chapter and I've separated them with page breaks in case you were curious what the original looked like, and the bolded parts are Edward's dreams, too, in case that confuses anyone. And please if you think there's a tag I missed that I should add let me know! I'm terrible at tagging things...and naming things... I'm terrible in general ok? Don't judge me. Anyway, I hope you like it!

**Edward watches as the attacker takes hold of his right arm, a loud ringing is replaced with the crash of metal expanding and breaking apart. His body is lighter as it falls to the ground; the remains of his automail flying  through the air, hitting the ground, scraping his face. He tries to back away, tries to get up and run, but even though he’s just seen his appendage break apart from him he instinctively tries to use it and he loses his balance.** **_Fucking idiot._ ** **His right cheek hits the ground with a splash. Alphonse is screaming. The rain is no longer falling on his face as a figure looms overhead with an outstretched arm. A gunshot.**

His eyes fly open to total darkness and it doesn’t help the fire in his chest or the panic in his veins. His stomach is in his throat and his breaths come sharp and and shallow, one after the other; he’s able to hear nothing but the rushing of blood in his ears. His entire body is throbbing with the panicked rhythm.  _ I can’t breathe _ . He rolls onto his side, gripping at his bangs with his hand and panting violently.  _ My lungs are melting. _ He’s not sure how longs he lays there, panicked and unable to distinguish dreams from reality, but his only reaction to the door opening is to squint at the light from the hallway. He doesn’t comprehend Winry entering the room, can’t hear her calling his name, asking him what’s wrong. He doesn’t feel the mattress shift under her weight but he does feel the heat in her palm when it connects with his fistful of hair. He feels her fingers digging in between his cautiously, loosening his grip.

          His other senses begin to come back to him. The beating of his heart slows and he’s able to hear her clearer, his eyes adjust to the light spilling in through the doorway and he answers her questions: His name is Edward, he’s in his home town with Gran and Winry and Al. He’s safe. Somewhere along this endeavor she had put her hand on his cheek and he had let her; the heat from her skin like an anchor bringing him back to this small bedroom and out of his nightmares. 

          “Ed?”

          “Yeah?”

          “You okay?” He takes a breath.

          “Yeah.”

          “You wanna talk about it?”  Instinctively the corners of his mouth fall and he shakes his head. No, he doesn’t; he couldn’t even if he  _ did _ want to. 

          “I’m fine. It was just...a bad dream.”

          “Sounded like it was a pretty bad one.” She whispers. She hasn’t let go of his cheek yet, which he’s not sure if he should point out or not -there’s no telling where she’s hiding a wrench.

          “Can you...take a break? Stay here for a bit?” He’s expecting her to chide him, tell him no, that she’s gotta get back to work on his arm if he wants to leave in time. But, she nods.

          “Yeah, I can stay for a couple minutes.”

 

* * *

 

She knows what it is now, why this happens to him. The first time she had ever seen him like this was just after him and Al had tried to bring their mother back. He was lying on the bed delirious and terrified that his brother hated him. She hadn’t really known what to do back then, seeing him so unnerved and frightened was so out of his character that it made her panic, too. It hadn’t happened again -that she knew of- until he returned to Resebool with his arm completely destroyed, apparently right after Scar’s attack. She had heard him yell out in the middle of the night and decided to check on him; maybe he had stubbed his toe in the darkness. When she opened the door she found him lying sideways in his bed and hyperventilating with his good hand in his hair, dangerously close to ripping chunks loose from his skull. 

The only thing she could get out of him was “it was just a bad dream,” but he didn’t want her to leave after he calmed down. She didn’t understand how a simple dream could have such a violent effect on him until Major Armstrong filled her in on the details of Scar’s assault. The next one had been the very next night, this one stemmed from a dream about a girl named Nina. Though he never wanted to talk about the dreams that force him awake panting and screaming in the middle of the night, he was always so relieved to come back to his senses and find her sitting next to him.

So when she hears the crash from down the hallway she scurries along the hospital wing to the source, picking up speed as she goes. Sure enough, she hears it: shallow and labored breaths coming from the hospital room Ed is supposed to be sleeping in. She opens the door and finds him sitting on the floor in front of his bed, clutching his legs and rocking back and forth, mumbling about homunculi and monsters. She crosses the room in a few strides and wastes no time coaxing him down. Sitting directly in front of him, she cups his face with both her hands. 

“Edward, breathe.”

She used her thumbs to wipe away the tears that had spilled over his blonde eyelashes. She takes slow breaths, urging him to mimic her. In a matter of minutes his breathing returns to normal and the tremors in his body stop. After she gets him to lay back down in bed she plops down on the mattress next to him and hitches herself up on her right elbow. Using her right hand to hold her head up, she uses her left to reach over and pull the band out of Ed’s hair. She ruffles his braid and begins combing through the golden strands with her fingers. A sigh escapes him when she scratches at his scalp gently with her fingernails. 

“Another nightmare?”  She asks.

“Yeah.” Is his short reply. He rolls onto his back and turns his head, sighing again when Winry takes the opportunity to scratch the side of his head. 

“Do you wanna talk about it?”

“No.”

“I figured,” she sighs. “You know, it could actually  _ help _ you to talk about the scary things that happen to you. It might give you some closure and then it won’t bother you as much.” She lifts her head to set it on her arm, using both hands to smooth out the strands of Ed’s hair. When she’s done, he turns on his side to face her. 

“Not this time.” He looks down at her hand, which is now resting comfortably between their chests, her other one tucked away behind her head again. “This time I’ll only hurt more people by talking about it.” She frowns.  _ What is he talking about? _ She stretches her arm out again, placing her hand on his cheek and running her thumb over the soft skin like she had grown accustomed to doing whenever she found him panicking by himself. She would probably never get used to the way it always seems to make Ed’s face pinken. 

“Go back to sleep, alchemy freak.”

 

* * *

 

“Will you guys shut up?! Do you know how early I have to wake up tomorrow?” Ed turns to see Winry standing in the doorway, one hand on the door she had angrily pushed open and the other clutching the hotel pillow.  _ Why did she bring the pillow? _ He thinks, a smile creeping over his face.  _ What a dork.  _

“Oh right, I forgot. You’re catching an early train to Rush Va-”  _ Uh, oh. _ “You know what? You should cancel that. Why don’t you stick around and relax?” He tries to play it off, but her expressions goes from angry to confused  _ and _ angry. He wouldn’t be able to talk himself out of this one. “I mean it’s just that, well, you know, there’s...always a chance that my arm could get broken again. Or even...destroyed.”  _ Where the hell did that wrench come from?! Does she keep one on her at all times? Those pajamas don’t even have pockets! _

“Are you  _ planning _ on destroying it?!” There is is again, that furious glare in her eyes. “I can’t believe you... Just promise you won’t do anything too dangerous.” Her expression changes again, from anger to something Ed recognizes all too well. She’s worried. 

“So uh...is that a yes? You’ll stay?” She sighs. 

“It doesn’t look like I have much of a choice, does it?”

 

**“You, boy. You’re the Fullmetal Alchemist, correct?” He looks up just as he feels himself being pulled up and away by the arms of his coat. A man stands by them with an outstretched arm.** **_Not friendly_ ** **. Snapping to his senses, he transmutes a wall between them. Before he can even get back up on his feet, however, a bright blue light and an explosion indicate even more danger. Edward lay in rubble as the attacker approaches him through the hole he had just created.** **_Who is this guy? What does he want? This is bad. This is really bad. I have to move. Now!_ **

**“Let’s go, Al. Run for it!”**

**His boots scrape against the ground as he struggles to his feet, turning and running as fast as his legs can carry him towards the staircase leading down to the city. Just as he reaches the railing, another explosion rings out and he finds himself yet again face to face with the man who had appeared. Another explosion. The ground falls out from underneath him and he flips, falling headfirst towards the wet concrete of the staircase below him as he screams.**

 

A jolt sends his eyes flying open to the cracks lining the room’s ceiling.  _ I’m in the hotel,  _ he tells himself. He forces as slow of breaths as he can muster with his lungs trembling. They want to give out, the pounding sound of his heartbeat sending signals of danger throughout his body.  _ Not in front of Al. Pull yourself together.  _ Sitting up, he places both feet firmly onto the carpet below him. His elbows fall onto his knees and his head falls into his palms. He presses his fingers into his skin, rubbing away the tension as best as he can. 

“Brother?” He looks up through his fingertips to see All sitting on the couch opposite. “You were dreaming.”

“Yeah.” Ed sighs, sitting up straight and pulling the tie out of his hair. “It actually wasn’t as bad as they usually are. This one was more just a jump scare.” 

“A jump scare?”

“Have you ever had those dreams where you feel like you’re falling and you wake up right before you hit the ground?” Ed begins combing through his hair, placing the tie that held the strands in place on his organic wrist. He had learned the hard way not to put any bands on his automail arm after Winry had to cut his favorite hair tie out of its inner mechanisms. 

“I think so. It’s been a while since I’ve had any dreams.”

“Oh. Right.” He looks down at his feet. “Sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize.” At this, Edward looks up at his sibling. “You look pale, brother. Winy has food in her room, doesn’t she? Maybe you should go see if she’s awake and ask for an apple or something.” Though he was technically just a soul now, he was still one of the most genuinely good people Ed’s ever met.  _ How did we end up like this?  _ Ed smiles.

“Alright, fine.” 

 

* * *

 

Standing in front of the closed hotel room door, Edward realizes it’s probably not ideal to walk around the hallways clad in boxers and a tank top and he definitely should have put pants on before leaving his room. He knocks twice, and when he hears a mumbled “yes?” from the other side, he reaches for the door and pushes it open to sneak inside. 

Winry’s lying in her bed, a book in her hands and a small candle flame dancing from the bedside table.

“Hey.” She looks away from her book to see Ed standing, quite awkwardly, at the room’s entrance, scratching the back of his head and attempting to look anywhere but straight at her or his lack of pants. She sits up and taps the bed next to her, sticking her nose back between the pages of the book in her hand. 

“Still awake? You decide to stay up since you don’t have to get up early tomorrow, or something?” He asks, crossing the room and sitting next to her, his feet dangling off the edge of the bed.

“Not particularly. Couldn’t sleep.” Ed frowns. She  _ is _ worried. “Why are  _ you _ up so late? Don’t you have a big day tomorrow?” He swallows. When he doesn’t say anything she looks up again, setting her book in her lap. “You had another nightmare, didn’t you?” He sighs. 

“Yeah.” Winry closes her book and places it on the bedside table. “But it wasn’t a bad one, it was more a-” the hand around his arm catches his words in his throat. Winry grabs at him gently, pulling him closer. 

“Lay down.” She leans forward and blows on the candle flame, extinguishing it before she pulls him down onto the pillow and throws the comforter over them both. Flabbergasted, Ed lays there motionless as she goes to work scratching his scalp. 

“You know, you’re the only one who will scratch my head.” He sighs, giving in and tilting his head so she can reach everywhere. She snorts.

“I’m the only person you’ll even let touch you.” She pulls the short hair away from his face and scratches gently at the base of his forehead. The face he gives her in return has her fighting back the urge to giggle. “And you’re kind of an asshole.”

“Hey!”

“Well, it’s true! Maybe if you weren’t such a jerk more people would line up for the opportunity.”

“Opportunity?” Edward chuckles. “What does that mean?

“It’s actually pretty fun.” At this he opens his eyes to meet hers.

“Yeah? How so?” 

“Well, for one, your hair is really soft and it’s fun to play with. And the face you make when I get right here-” she pulls her hand downard and begins  to scratch at his hairline just below his left ear, to which he responds with another sigh. His eyes close, his brows furrow, and his lips part. “That face is pretty priceless.” Winry re adjusts her position, settling on her left side and tucking her arm under her head. She stops scratching his scalp, opting instead to rubbing circles into the back of his neck. They lay in silence for a while, listening to the noise of the cars outside and the late night partygoers retiring to their hotel rooms.

          “Hey, Ed?”

          “Hmm?”

          “You and Al. Your lives have gotten really dangerous since you joined the military, haven’t they?” He opens his eyes again; the light seeping in through the window pane probably lit his face up like a match, but it cast shadows across her furrowed bow and downturned lips. “You keep telling me it’s not my business and that it doesn’t concern me, but it does. If you two are in danger I need to know. I don’t like just waiting around for the next phone call telling me you’ve gotten hurt again.” He doesn’t want to lie to her, but he can’t put her in danger with the information he’s acquired. He and Alphonse were uncovering things he didn’t even realize were possible; he was starting to think that maybe they had bit off more than they could chew. 

          “Winry, I promise when this is all over I’ll tell you everything. I’ll tell you what’s going on, but it could take a while.” He reaches up and places his hand over her wrist, squeezing gently. “I”m not entirely sure I’d even know how to begin explaining it just yet. It’s actually kind of confusing.” Exasperated, she sighs. 

          “You Elric brothers don’t make any sense to me.” Her tone is brimming with irritation, but she doesn’t pull away. In fact, she does the opposite. Placing her forehead against his, she closes her eyes. “Are you gonna go back to your room soon or are you going to stay here?” 

          “I’m actually pretty comfortable,” he sighs. “You care if I stay here for a bit?” 

          “Nah.” He closes his eyes again, before long he feels sleep beginning to take over his body. He expected to be able to lay there for another fifteen minutes before Alphonse would come to see exactly what about eating an apple took so long. He did not expect to fall asleep, or for Winry to wake him.

          “Ed, you’re breathing on my face.”

_           Holy shit. _

          His eyes fly open, determined to confirm if he had really felt what he thought he had. They had shifted even closer together during his snooze; their foreheads were no longer connected but their noses had pressed together and their chins were now touching. Yup. He had, in fact, physically felt her lips move against his. Her hand had not moved from his neck and he hopes she can’t feel his quickening heartbeat beneath her palm. 

          “S-sorry.” He sits up, completely unable to comprehend why something so simple could make his face burn like it is right now. 

          “Ed, are you okay?”

          “I’m fine,” he squeaks. “Al’s probably worried about me, I’m going to go back to my room.” He slides off the bed. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” And with that he makes his way towards the door, but not before stubbing his toe on the center table. Mumbling curses to himself, he reaches for the door handle and twists the contraption loose from the door frame. Once he crosses the threshold and is safely out of Winry’s line of sight he collapses against the drywall, letting his head thump softly against the wallpaper. He stands there for several minutes, trying to grasp why his heart is beating so damned fast. He’s not having a panic attack, he knows that for sure. This is different. Much different.  _ Of all the things you’ve seen and done you get worked up over this? _ Making a fist, he places his metal knuckles against his temple.  _ What is going on with me? _

          He retreats to his own room only when the impending footsteps from the stairwell indicate visitors would soon be getting a great view of blue and white pinstripe boxer shorts wrapped around a tiny, red faced teenager. When he enters the room, clearly much more visibly flustered than he had been when he left, he gets the usual comments from Alphonse. 

          “You were gone a while, brother. What were you doing over there?” If he had a face, Ed was sure Alphonse would be grinning evilly at him right now. Without a word, he falls into his bed and throws the covers over his head. 


End file.
